As soon as I saw the light blinking on my answer machine, I knew who it was. I’ve stopped answering the phone because he keeps calling I really, really don’t want to talk to him. I leave the machine on all the time but he keeps on calling anyway and he always hangs up without leaving a message. I don’t know it’s him for sure but I can’t think who else it can be. I don’t know what’s up with that guy. When I did the deliveries, he never wanted to talk to me.
Today he did leave a message. Says he wants me to visit. Says he’s got stuff to talk about. Why would I want to talk to him? I’m finished in that business. These days I work down the shop and I do a bit of other business on the side but that’s all. The one thing I’m not is some other fucker’s delivery boy. He says they want me to make ‘a friendly visit’ - “We can make it worth your while,” he says. I noticed there was a lot of “we” and “us” all of a sudden, meaning that I’m supposed to believe that Frankie sodding Fischer wants to get all chummy with me. Not that Frankie himself ever phones, of course.
Sod them! I don’t need their money. I can make money any day of the week. I got contacts. I can make plenty.
Later on Guy phones. He says, “It’s Guy, pick up the fucking phone, you cunt,” which is Guy’s way of saying, “Hello, have a nice day,” so I pick up the phone and he asks me if I’ve heard the latest and I tell him that all depends on what the latest is. And he says there’s a story going round that one of the newspapers is going to run a story about Frankie Fischer, going to spill the beans and that. And I say, I thought all the beans had already been spilled. And Guy says he’s heard there’s a lot more stuff going to come out - and for a minute I start to panic as I’m thinking about the drugs and I’m thinking about all the stuff I used to deliver and I’m worrying that someone’s made the connection to me, which is something I do not want - but Guy says, no, it’s not the drugs angle they’re going for, it’s the sex angle. And I’m thinking maybe they’re going to run a story about Frankie and Baldie and I’m thinking well, serves Baldie’s fucking right, the fat creep. But Guy says, no, it’s not about Baldie, it’s about boys. And I say, which boys? And Guy says, “You should fucking know, you bastard!” and I say “Why me?” and he says, “You went to his fucking party, didn’t you?” And I say, “So what?” and he says, “Funny thing is, no one’s seen Welsh Willy since. Since that party.” And I say, “So why am I supposed to care?” And he says, “I just think it’s funny, that’s all. I mean, rumour is that Welsh Willy was blackmailing Frankie Fischer. And now he’s gone. Just strikes me as funny, that’s all.”
“Ha-fucking-ha,” I say.